


Timmy's Ass

by JoliePrudence



Series: Body Parts - A Series [3]
Category: Call Me By Your Name (2017) RPF
Genre: M/M, Rimming, Spanking, Timmy's ass, body parts, that's pretty much it!
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-11-16
Updated: 2020-11-16
Packaged: 2021-03-09 22:06:54
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27593161
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/JoliePrudence/pseuds/JoliePrudence
Summary: Following a disagreement about what they should have for dinner, Timmy and Armie set out to play a game of Cat and Mouse in which Armie is the cat and Timmy is the mouse... oh who am I kidding!!!  Timmy gets spanked!  C'est tout.
Relationships: Timothée Chalamet/Armie Hammer
Series: Body Parts - A Series [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1983274
Comments: 21
Kudos: 93





	Timmy's Ass

**Author's Note:**

> All the stories written for this series take place in the universe I created while writing 'Juillet' which can be read here: [**Juillet by JoliePrudence**](https://archiveofourown.org/works/27067612)
> 
> Though they aren't written chronologically, they all take place during the month Timmy rented a cabin in the Woodstock area during the summer of 2020.
> 
> This really is just smut. it's not like dirty dirty smut but its still smut. so.. yep! That's about it. I could try and be literary about it say it's a window into T and As private life within the Cabin AU and how comfortable they can be with each other in this world and bla bla bla but like.... it's really just Timmy getting his ass smacked and liking it so I'll just leave it at that. Enjoy!

[ ](https://ibb.co/gTTHFMn)

Timmy isn’t sure how he got himself in this situation. He and Armie had been discussing what they were going to have for dinner and somehow a disagreement about zucchini had led to Timmy splashing Armie with soapy dish water. Ok, so maybe splashing was a bit of an understatement. Heavily dousing Armie with soapy dish water was probably more accurate but there was no need for semantics… because regardless he wasn’t sorry. In fact, he thought it was pretty damned funny; the look of shock followed by the insulting slow slide of fizzy suds down Armie’s face sending Timmy into gaggles of laughter.

This was short lived however as mirth was quickly replaced by anticipatory exhilaration and panic. Exhilaration, because Armie had used his t-shirt to wipe soap from his eyes, lifting it by the hem up to his face, which had exposed the tanned plains and the golden hair of his stomach and the sight of this sent shivers of longing and anticipation down Timmy’s spine. Panic, because once he'd let go of his shirt, Armie had cocked an eyebrow, squared his shoulders and with a predatory smile had said: “Run.”

Timmy darted his eyes from left then right, quickly assessing his options and then he ran like a bat out of hell. Armie gave him til the count of three before he took off after him, embarking on a game of cat and mouse that Timmy knew he would inevitably lose.

He’d managed to escape capture longer than he’d expected, the adrenaline making him giddy and now he can’t stop giggling as he and Armie face off on opposite ends of the dining room table. Timmy’s heart is thumping in his chest and he’s panting as he leans against the surface of the table with open palms, trying to buy himself enough time to think of a way out. Sweat is dampening his temples and he wipes a drop of perspiration from his cheek with his shoulder, never taking his eyes of Armie, who barely seems to be out of breath; and Timmy knows that even if he was able to get by Armie, who stands between him and the only exit, he wouldn’t be able to keep running for long. But still he can’t bring himself to surrender.

As a last ditch effort, Timmy feigns left before pivoting right but Armie had anticipated the maneuver and he charges at Timmy, catching him almost immediately and though he tries to wiggle and shimmy his way free, Armie's strong arms quickly immobilize him. 

“You know what happens when you struggle.” Armie warns with a laugh that sounds suspiciously like a growl, lifting Timmy off his feet so he’s left flailing in mid-air, his back pressed to Armie’s front, and Timmy’s body vibrates with excitement that is laced with just a pinch of fear. 

Immediately, Timmy starts apologizing. He says he’s sorry for having splashed Armie - even if he isn’t. He says he shouldn't have run - even if he’d do it again. He even goes as far as to say he’ll eat the damned zucchini if it means Armie will show him a little mercy - even if, GROSS! But Armie isn’t to be swayed - even if Timmy can feel him laughing, the low rumble vibrating against his back.

“It’s too late for that now,” Armie says forebodingly, his words emphasised by the way he’s tightening his arms around Timmy’s body and Timmy’s tummy both flutters and drops at the same time. 

Timmy is carried like this to the living room, as though he weighs nothing despite the fact that he’s almost six feet tall, and it’s exciting and embarrassing at the same time, which only serves to increase the arousal that quickly tightens the muscles in his belly and makes his cock start to fill out. He thinks about making another run for it if the opportunity presents itself; but it would only be a futile attempt at prolonging the inevitable, so he decides against it. Besides, he knows what’s coming and although he wouldn’t admit it right now, he’s really into these games he and Armie play sometimes. Not all the time, but once in a while. And when they do, Timmy carries the memories of it with him long after the marks have faded.

Once they’re in the living room, Timmy isn’t at all surprised to find himself being manhandled and placed over Armie’s knee but he is a little astonished at how quickly is he placed into position, his stomach over Armie’s left thigh, his legs being held in place by Armie right calf and his front being pushed into the couch cushions by Armie’s strong hand placed firmly between his shoulder blades. 

Timmy regrets having worn joggers today because it’s it too easy for Armie to pull both his pants and his boxers down to his knees one handed, the swift tug and jostle making him gasp and moan in quick succession as the head of his cock rubs against the the fabric of his clothes and then the jeans that Armie is wearing. It’s not cold in the cabin but still his skin ripples with goosebumps that make him shiver.

“Perfect.” Armie whispers, his large warm hand caressing gently over the pale ivory skin of Timmy’s small but round ass with tenderness and admiration that can be felt in his touch. Timmy keens under the compliment and the feeling of Armie’s rough palm against his skin; the sound making butterflies flutter in Armie's belly and heat radiate through his chest. 

After a few more gentle passes with the flat of his hand, Armie roughens his touch, fingers now sinking into pliable flesh and nails scratching delicate skin to wake up the nerve endings under it. Timmy is giving himself over to the game so fully and compliantly, Armie wants to make this as good for him as he can. So he hardens his voice and drums his fingers on Timmy’s lower back as though he’s annoyed before saying: “You haven’t been a very good boy Timothée.”

Timmy tenses at the use of his name rather than it’s diminutive - Armie even making the effort to pronounce it in french - all the muscles in Timmy’s back jumping at attention, eagerness, anticipation and fear making his heart thump so loudly that Armie feels it under his palm. The tension is even evident in his voice which sounds strangled when he apologizes once more.

“Are you, Timothée? Are you really sorry?” Armie asks, raising an amused eyebrow, his left hand moving to the back of Timmy’s skull where he grabs a fistful of soft curls so he can turn his head to see his face. He wants to appear intimidating but he isn’t ready for the look in Timmy’s eyes and he almost breaks character; because the way Timmy is looking at him - all wide-eyed innocence and bashful pleading - is utterly sinful. 

So when Timmy says “No!” and his expression changes to wicked lechery, Armie winces as his throbbing cock rebels against the constraint of its denim confines. Immediately Armie strikes, his right hand coming down on Timmy’s left asscheek in a sharp loud whack, the sound it makes echoing into the air before dissipating into the quiet of the cabin. At first he worries that he’s hit Timmy too hard given the way he hisses and his body strains, but then the tension in his body evaporates and he becomes docile and malleable over Armie’s knee, a sound almost like a purr escapes his throat. 

Armie sometimes forgets how beautifully submissive Timmy can be, how much Timmy likes these games and how sometimes he even needs them. Because most of the time Timmy is pretty demanding and assertive. He’s not domineering - though they’ve played those games too - but he knows what he wants and he isn’t afraid of letting Armie know. So having him give himself over like this always makes Armie incredibly conscious of the precious gift it is and he wants to give Timmy exactly what he needs.

“Count!” Armie orders, watching as a faint blush colors the flawless cream colored skin Timmy’s ass. He refrains from soothing the sting of the slap with his hand because he wants Timmy to properly feel it which is a struggle because his palm tingles with need and desire.

“To how many?” Timmy asks, tugging against Armie’s fist in his hair so he can lift his head to look at Armie, eyes soft and pupils almost entirely covering the green of his irises.

“Ten. Excluding the one you just got for having a smart mouth.” Armie decides, after he pretends to ponder this for a few seconds.

“Excluding it! That’s not f…” Timmy starts to argue but he gets a warning tap on the other cheek that stops him from arguing and he sighs as the heat of it spreads. “Yes Sir.”

“Good boy. Ready?” Armie asks and he feels Timmy nod against his fist. 

Armie wishes he could take the roleplay a little further. Maybe ask Timmy if he knows why he’s being punished and make him promise to be good for him. But he’s already so hard that he’s leaking into his jeans and he doesn’t think he’d be able to stop himself from pushing Timmy to the ground and fucking him right away if he looks at him all wantonly again. So instead, Armie removes his hand from Timmy’s hair, places it back between his shoulder blades and pushes his shoulders further into the couch so his ass raises even further. This alone makes Timmy moan and Armie has to concentrate to keep focused on the task at hand.

The skin of Timmy’s ass already feels warm where Armie had delivered the first blow. He gently runs his fingertips over the pink outline and then over the cool skin of the other cheek, noting the difference of temperature, wishing he could feel it with his tongue. ‘Later.’ he chastises himself and then he strikes the unmarred cheek with his open palm, the sound mixing with Timmy's sharp intake of breath and his subsequent moan.

“One!” Timmy counts, his voice thick with want and embarrassment; and he sounds completely done-in, which makes Armie’s cock twitch desperately. 

A sort of rhythm develops as the spanking continues. Armie soothes the red and swelling skin with his palm before giving attention the the site of his next strike by kneading into soft flesh or making it jiggle a little - which he knows Timmy hates on principal because he wishes his body looked more like Armie’s sometimes, instead of being soft and yielding the way his is, but Armie loves Timmy’s body, not in spite of, but because of those reasons, and he likes watching Timmy’s ass move under his fingers, so he does it anyway - and Timmy counts. Numbers shouldn’t sound so dirty but they do when Timmy is saying them with such abandon and discomposure, and Armie has to bite his lip not to groan along with him.

“Fuck.” Timmy groans, when Armie slips a spit-slicked thumb between his asscheeks and rubs it in quick tight circles over his hole. His hips push against Armie’s hand involuntarily and he grunts when the tip of Armie’s thumb breeches the first ring of muscles. But before he can push further back into the touch, Armie’s thumb is gone and another slap lands on his right cheek. “Six.” Timmy yelps, his pelvis canting forward this time and his cock rubs against the worn fabric of Armie’s jeans, which makes his yelp turn into more of a mewl.

So the rhythm changes to add a thumb or a finger being pressed into Timmy just far enough to be frustrating and amazing at the same time and then it’s gone, Armie’s open palm coming down against a stinging asscheek once more.

Timmy is a mess of moans and quivering muscles by the time the final slap touches his skin, the burn spreading over both cheeks; and it hurts and feels good and Timmy sounds like he’s falling apart when he finally says: “Ten.” 

“Such a good boy.” Armie praises, the hand that had been pushing Timmy into the couch now rubbing his back soothingly under his t-shirt, his right hand gently caressing the fiery red skin of Timmy’s ass. 

Neither of them moves, Timmy basking in the endorphin rush and the stress release these games give him but soon Timmy is scrambling to get back on his feet and he crashes onto Armie, dishevelled and eyes wild, finding his mouth on instinct, hands frantic and uncoordinated as he tries to undo Armie’s button and zipper.

“Hey, hey, relax.” Armie says a little baffled because Timmy is panting and tearing at his clothes erratically, almost heedless with need.

“I need you to fuck me. Please, Armie.” Timmy asks, begs really, his voice unabashedly desperate.

“Ok Baby, let’s get you out of these clothes first.” Armie says to calm him and Timmy is immediately pulling off his shirt while kicking his legs maniacally to get his pants and boxers off all the way. 

Armie takes a moment to admire the sight before him, finding it impossible not to palm himself through his jeans as Timmy undresses. His skin is flushed from head to toe, his hair a mess, bottom lip swollen and bruised from having been bitten and sucked into his mouth and his eyes are dark pools of blatant desire. He gets lost in admiration and realises after a while that Timmy is now waiting for instruction, squirming under his gaze, need more than embarrassment making him antsy. 

“Kneel on the couch, please.” Armie requests with an edge to his tone that tells Timmy that how he’s about to be fucked isn’t going to be up to him; and Armie has to bite his tongue to not laugh at the way Timmy flushes a deeper shade of burgundy at the realization of this.

Timmy does as he’s told and kneels on the seat, forearms resting on the back so he’s leaning forward a little and his ass is up in the air. He looks over his shoulder and watches Armie undress with a slow restraint that is both incredibly hot and excruciating, going as far as to fold his clothes neatly and placing them on the coffee table before getting on his knees in front of Timmy’s offered rear-end. 

“Don’t touch yourself, and don’t come until my cock is inside you.” he instructs before pressing soft wet kisses to the angry looking red skin of Timmy’s asscheeks. The heat warms his lips and he ignores the urge to bite into the soft flesh beneath them because he knows it would be too painful right now.

“Armie, I need you to fuck me right now. Stop fucking around. Please.” Timmy begs, his voice almost a cry but Armie isn’t swayed.

“I don’t recall giving you a choice. Now stop whining and spread your knees.”

When the tip of Armie’s tongue touches Timmy’s opening, it’s like an electric shock goes through his body and Timmy bucks uncontrollably, pushing his ass against Armie’s face, his back arched and his head falling between his forearms. Placing his palms delicately on Timmy’s inflamed cheeks, Armie spreads them so he can tickle and tease his way into Timmy’s hole. 

By now, Timmy’s moans are a combination of ‘oh fuck’s, Armie’s name and loud gutteral sounds that come from his chest and get lost in his throat; and Armie revels in each of them. When he’s satisfied that Timmy is wet enough, he slowly adds a finger along with his tongue. And though Timmy grunts at the intrusion, he is so ready that Armie’s finger slips right in; so he adds a second… and then a third. 

“Armie. Please. I need… fuck.” Timmy pants and his voice is shaking in cadence with his thighs.

“What do you need Baby?” Armie asks even if he knows the answer, because he wants to draw this out a little longer. Because having Timmy fall apart around him like this is something he wants to remember when he’s back in L.A. 

“Armie I can’t, I'm gonna come. Fuck me already.”

“Excuse me? I don’t think I heard you correctly? What was that?” Armie teases, his thumb rubbing gently over Timmy’s greedy hole, his tongue and his fingers being held for ransom. 

“Armie!” Timmy complains, moving his hips to try and get more than just a gentle graze of Armie’s thumb but not managing. His cock is dripping on the couch and he wants to touch himself desperately, but he’s afraid Armie won't follow through if he does, and he both loves and hates that Armie has this power over him.

“Be a good boy and ask nicely and then maybe I’ll give you what you want.” Armie insists, pushing his thumb in just a little as an incentive, and Timmy keens.

“Oh god. Please. Please fuck me. I need to come. I need YOU to make me come. Please, Armie. Please fuck me.” 

“There, that wasn’t so hard, was it?” Armie asks before kissing Timmy’s opening and lapping into it. “You’re certainly very hard though, aren't you Baby?” he questions further, a hand reaching between Timmy’s thighs to stroke his dripping cock. 

Timmy whines and rocks his pelvis forward to push into Armie’s fists but Armie loosens his grip immediately, making Timmy groan in frustration, tears starting to burn behind his closed eyelids. He’s so desperate that he doesn’t even notice that Armie has stood behind him and it makes his breath hitch when he feels his mouth close to his ear.

“Don’t forget. No touching yourself.” Armie whispers before kissing the shell of Timmy’s ear and then the touch is gone leaving Timmy with an immediate feeling of loss. 

Thankfully Armie’s hands soon grip Timmy’s hips, fingers digging roughly against his flesh and his cock pushes into Timmy’s expectant hole in one fluid motion that is everything all at once...pain, pleasure, love and completeness.

“Oh fuck yes.” Timmy groans, his head falling back between his forearms and he braces himself for the assault he hopes is coming.

Armie doesn’t disappoint. He pushes into Timmy at a frenetic pace, no longer able to speak coherently so his praises now take the form of appreciative and needy moans and groans as he takes possession of Timmy’s body fully and greedily.

“Don’t Stop… I’m gonna… fuck…” Timmy says when he feels his balls draw up close to body, readying him for his imminent release. “God yes… I love you.” he blurts out when he finally explodes, painting the backrest of the couch with his come, feeling worshipped and owned as Armie continues to chase his own release by roughly pounding into his ass.

When Armie comes, he does so deep in Timmy’s ass, pelvis pressed hard agaisnt Timmy’s still hot asscheeks and he sees stars. After, when he’s regained vision and the ability to speak, he collapses next to Timmy on the couch and pulls him into his lap so he can kiss him, still out of breath, his heart drumming a frantic beat inside his chest. Timmy groans when Armie’s hands grope his ass, fingers and nails digging into already marked and sensitive sink.

“Sorry.” Armie says, worried suddenly. “Does it hurt?” 

“No. Yes. A little. But in a good way.” He says and then blushes when he adds: “I like it.”

They kiss for a long time, Armie holding Timmy against his body on the couch, lazily stroking his back, enjoying the closeness and intimacy of the moment and not caring that they’re both sticky and covered in come and sweat. And Armie realizes he's probably going to have to go out and rent a steam cleaner tomorrow to clean the mess they've made but he doesn’t care, hell he’ll buy the owners a dozen new couches if it means he can keep having Timmy in this way, fully and totally his.

"Come on, we need to shower and get some lotion on that pretty little ass of yours before we make dinner." Armie says when the sun has set and his stomach growling. Ignoring Timmy’s groans of protest, he sits up and asks in as stern a voice as he can manage: “Is that a no about to cross your lips Timothee?” And Timmy freezes but then smiles coyly.

“No, Sir," he says, acting contrite and Armie winks.

“Good boy. Now go.” Armie orders, tapping Timmy gently on the hip rather than on the bum, not wanting to add to the already swollen marks he’s left on otherwise perfectly creamy skin and he smile when Timmy kisses him again; pressing his warm lips to Armie’s one last time before bouncing off the couch and heading toward the bedroom, wiggling his ass teasingly for Armie’s benefit. 

And Armie groans, because his cock is already starting to stir and he’s pretty sure he isn’t going to be making dinner anytime soon.  



End file.
